


can you feel the love tonight

by starcanopus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Derek Hale is a Softie, Disney References, Fluff, Karaoke, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance, all the references, and the biGGEST closet romantic tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcanopus/pseuds/starcanopus
Summary: Derek leans back against the wall of the hallway inconspicuously—appearing for all the world like he’s waiting for someone in the bathroom—as he peers through the clear glass of the door at the room’s occupants.And arches an eyebrow.Because, well—There’s a man at the center of the room, leg bent at the knee and foot propped up on the low table in front of him in a heroic pose, belting outthat perfect girl is gonerather enthusiastically.





	can you feel the love tonight

_ can you feel the love tonight _

Derek’s making his way back to the private karaoke room his family has reserved for the night when he hears it.

It’s not like he really _needs_ bathroom breaks every half hour and he’s pretty sure that his sisters are catching on, if their sharp gazes and thinned lips are anything to go by. But all his siblings _plus_ Erica, Boyd, and Isaac all in the same room sometimes just makes him feel overwhelmingly suffocated. It’s nothing against them. He loves them, he really does, and he would normally be all for these family gatherings but he's had a pretty shitty day, what with his editor riding his ass for his latest draft. So really, he would much rather be curled up by his window with a good book right now. Unfortunately, the women in his life have the uncanny ability to turn a _no_ into a _f__ine _and so here he is, doomed to listen to his brothers and Isaac screech Nicki Minaj lyrics all night long.

His feet come to a stop in their tracks and Derek tilts his head to listen, trying not to be obvious.

To be fair, the room that catches his attention is right outside the bathroom and the door is cracked open slightly, allowing for music and a bellowing voice to drift out into the hallway. So it’s not like he’s actively trying to be a creeper, no matter how many times he’s been accused of being one by Cora.

The song quickly reaches its chorus and Derek recognizes it as that song from the Disney movie _Frozen._ How could he ever forget, what with having heard the entirety of it on replay while babysitting his niece during her ice princess phase. Damn Laura. He still suspects she and her husband had taken advantage of Derek’s offer to babysit whenever just to get out of watching that movie every evening. Though it’s not like he’d ever refuse and his sister _knows_ this, because little Tally has had him wrapped around her tiny finger the day she popped out in the hospital delivery room five years ago.

So yeah, okay, he’s a little too acquainted with everything Disney. And sure, maybe Derek even knows that her current obsession is _The Lion King_, ever since the live action movie had been released. Far too many times for his liking this month, he’s had to wear lion ears and a _tail_ and pretend to be Scar while a niece-shaped leech pounced on his back with a war-like cry.

Derek leans back against the wall of the hallway inconspicuously—appearing for all the world like he’s waiting for someone in the bathroom—as he peers through the clear glass of the door at the room’s occupants.

And arches an eyebrow.

Because, well—

There’s a man at the center of the room, leg bent at the knee and foot propped up on the table in front of him in a heroic pose, belting out _that perfect girl is gone_ rather enthusiastically. Two other people are sitting on the faux leather loveseat off to the side, evaluating him with disbelieving and exasperated expressions as though this is a recurring situation they’re all too used to.

The guy lifts the microphone, tipping his head back and exposing an impressively enticing throat that Derek would definitely not be opposed to tracing with his to- _whoa, down, boy_. He coughs and shakes his head, distracting himself from the bad, _bad_ and unexpected thought, instead shifting his gaze to try and catch a glimpse of the guy’s face that’s now visible.

Which is not much better.

Because turns out he is _exactly _Derek’s type.

The man’s handsome face is flushed from alcohol and the hipster glasses nearly slipping off his nose before he pushes them back up the bridge of his nose only seem to accentuate stunning, amber eyes. Moles dot his pale skin and Derek follows them down his neck, wondering just where they trail down to.

“Dude,” groans the dark-haired man with a crooked jaw, rolling his eyes toward the pretty, Asian woman sitting next to him when the other man finally finishes off _the cold never bothered me anyway_ with an emphatic flail of his free arm. Derek is equal parts impressed and amused. The guy’s no Idina Menzel, but he isn’t actually all that bad to listen to. “How drunk are you?”

The man scoffs and holds up one long index finger. When he speaks, Derek is surprised to hear that his normal voice is deeper than he’d expected. It sends a surprising rush of warmth into Derek’s stomach. “Fuck you, Scott. I’ve only had one drink." 

He sets down the microphone and fumbles with the remote, scrolling down the list of songs that pop up on the TV screen and selecting a new one. "If I want to lament all about the barren landscape that is my love life by drowning myself in Disney songs, you best believe I will.”

So he’s single. Derek’s lizard brain is strangely pleased.

Drums begin to beat out from the speakers to yet _another _song that Derek recognizes. He doesn’t quite know why he doesn’t return immediately back to his own friends and family in the other room—most likely because the guy's a far better singer than the idiot Isaac—but something makes him content enough to lean backwards and rest his head against the wall, smirking a little when the man starts singing all about getting down to business to defeat the Huns.

The man points at his friend who’s apparently _unsuited for the rage of war_ and slashes a hand in an arc through the air. _So pack up, go home, you’re through._

It soon proves to be a rather pleasant distraction, listening to the man do his best to simultaneously mangle the song but also sing in tune with a surprising amount of talent, pumping a fist triumphantly _with all the force of a great typhoon_. The hallway's air is cooler and more tranquil than that of the room he'd been stuck in for the better half of the night. Muffled beats from other rooms vibrate against the wall he’s propped himself up against.

The other man in the room, Scott, groans and slouches down in his seat when his friend demands to know _how can I make a man out of you_. The woman next to him just pats Scott on the arm sympathetically, almond-shaped eyes twinkling with mirth.

It doesn’t take long for Derek to stop focusing on the other occupants of the room even when the next song starts up and it's catchy enough to make the man's friends bop happily to the music. No, his gaze runs hotly over one person only.

Over long, flailing limbs that possess a hidden gracefulness to them.

Dipping down a torso that Derek can tell is quite lean even under the loose, plaid shirt.

Lingering on the bow of pink, plush lips.

There’s something so free and wild about the man in the other room, his expression so open and wide mouth split into an inviting grin and—

Derek sucks in a sharp breath when the realization beats him over the head with the force of it.

He…_wants_.

“This next one’s for you, Scotty,” the guy gestures wildly towards his friend, complaining, “for making me third-wheel this entire night.”

Scott makes a strangled noise of protest, though it’s drowned out by the piano chords of a new song. The lyrics fading onto the screen indicate that it’s the original version of the love song from _The Lion King_. Strangely enough, his niece actually likes that one more, being the strange, strange child that she is. Though he doesn’t blame her, Timon and Pumbaa seem to ruin the beauty of the song, in Derek’s opinion. Not that he’d ever mention this out loud for fear of his other nieces and nephews murdering him in his sleep for blaspheming the apparently lovable characters.

“It’s not my fault everyone else backed out of squad night.”

Scott’s words are ignored as the man starts to croon the lyrics of the song, actually singing them seriously, much to Derek’s surprise. The Asian woman beams sweetly, curling a hand around Scott’s arm and pressing her lips against his cheek. The man dimples, capturing her mouth with his and kissing her deeply.

Something catches in Derek’s chest and he averts his gaze in favor of closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall again, letting the man’s voice wash over him soothingly. There’s a melodic and honeyed quality to the man’s voice, and it’s made clear through his surprisingly controlled vibrato that he’s no stranger to singing.

If Derek pretends, it almost feels like he’s being serenaded.

_And caaan you feel the looove toniiight?_

Well.

Up until that point, at least.

Derek snorts, entertained, lips tugging up into a small grin when the man warbles out the lyrics, clearly dragging out the notes dramatically just to annoy his friends and break up the kissfest.

Because his eyes are closed, Derek misses how the man begins to back towards the exit to go to the bathroom, still doing his best to sing obnoxiously and demolish any romantic atmosphere that the music might have provided his affectionate friends. It’s only when the glass door swings wide open with an audible click, do Derek’s eyes snap open in panic, his heart plummeting anxiously.

Two things happen at once.

Derek pushes off the wall, planning on making a quiet escape before he’s found out.

At the same time, the guy’s heel hits the sill of the door and he trips, words cutting off as he sucks in a surprised breath when he tips backward suddenly.

Right into Derek’s chest.

A low grunt escapes him from the impact and his hands fly up to steady the man, fingers curling around narrow hips. Derek flushes when his hands feel scorched by warmth despite the two layers of fabric separating him from the other man’s skin. The music doesn’t stop, and twin cries of concern come from the man’s friends who surge to their feet, hands outstretched uselessly. They only sag in relief when the man waves at them desperately and chokes out an “I’m okay, I’m alive!”

He’s not really sure what compels him to do it. Looking back, maybe it’s because he’s a little too dick stupid after watching the man non-stop for nearly half an hour. Or maybe there’s some idiotic, unconscious need to show off that yes, he knows how to sing Disney songs too, and would the attractive man pretty please pay attention to him and maybe go on a date with him also? Much more preferably though, he’d say that it’s just because his niece has him trained well. A little too well. 

_It’s enough to make kings and vagabonds believe the very best._

The guy’s head snaps around to look at him, eyes wide, when Derek mutters the last line of the song.

The man swallows hard, lips parting in astonishment. “Wow. Um, I mean…hi. Hey.”

A soft smile works its way onto Derek’s face. “Hi.”

“Uh…thanks. Thanks for catching me,” he says faintly and Derek’s ears pink when he realizes that the other man’s eyes keep flickering down to stare at his lips intently, “I’m…my name is Stiles.”

“Derek.”

“Derek.” Stiles breathes, like he can’t quite believe it. “Hi, Derek.”

He huffs out a short laugh but when he finally notices that Stiles is still in his arms and leaning into his chest, Derek hurriedly straightens, pushing the other man upright gently. And if his cheeks are stained with a blush that’s redder than normal, absolutely _no one_ needs to know. “You said that already.”

“C’mon, you can’t blame me, I mean, _look at you,_” Stiles grins easily, reaching out a hand tentatively to poke at his bicep. The urge to flex has never been quite so real. Derek quickly quashes that embarrassing feeling, stomping down on it desperately with everything he has. “Oh my god, that’s real. I’m not hallucinating. Oh my god, how are _you _real?”

Derek isn't really sure how to respond to that.

“Stiles!”

They both jump a little, turning to see Stiles’s friend loping up to them, the man’s eyes flickering suspiciously between them both. “You okay, dude? Kira and I thought you were gonna brain yourself. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Like you would have noticed,” Stiles winks at him and the woman who’s now standing next to Scott, “what with all that face-eating going on.”

The woman blushes fiercely.

“Stiles!” The dark-haired man hisses, scandalized, glancing at Derek as though he’d have something judgmental to say about that.

“Oh, relax. This is Derek, by the way, who I’m pretty sure saved my life tonight.” Stiles claps Derek on the shoulder with one hand and doesn’t remove it immediately, instead letting it slide off his back in a way that Derek has to force himself not to read into too much. The man’s next words, however, dash any attempts of trying not to get his hopes up.

“Speaking of face-eating…not to be too presumptuous, but I’m gonna be a little presumptuous and go ahead and ask because first of all, _wow_, and second of all, I’m feeling oddly brave tonight. And holy god, it’s not too often someone finishes a song for me.”

“Stiles…” Scott warns, still eyeing Derek up and down suspiciously. He doesn’t blame him. Derek’s pretty sure that his build and tight Henley don’t exactly scream friendly, boy-next-door vibes.

Despite that, Stiles’s lips quirk up into a positively lascivious grin, something heated in his gaze sending pleasant chills dancing up Derek’s spine when he turns to face Derek.

“Want to get out of here?”

Maybe Erica dragging him out of the house tonight had been a good thing after all.

* * *

Derek rolls off Stiles, carefully tugging off the condom and tying it off all while still trying to catch his breath. 

"That..." the other man doesn't sound much better and his arm is still covering his eyes from where he'd tossed it during the throes of his orgasm, chest heaving and covered with a thin sheen of sweat as he pants, "was _incredible_.”

Derek's agreement is through a nonverbal grunt. Sex is good. He likes sex. But this is probably the first time that he thinks he's ever had this much _fun_ doing it. Nothing else he’d done previously had ever been quite like this.

Like stumbling up the steps to Stiles's apartment, grinning at the way the other man snorted relentlessly at Derek's recount of one of his sister’s drunken escapades.

Or laughing when Stiles got caught in his own jacket in his haste to get it off and Derek had to help extract him from it.

Or when Derek paused halfway in divesting Stiles of his belt and pants and asked Stiles if he was _sure_ that this was what he wanted and wouldn't regret it the next morning. To which Stiles sniffed pompously, "I never look back darling, it distracts from the now."

Which was...not really an answer no matter how good the movie it came from was, so Derek pulled back, arching an eyebrow and folding his arms. And then Stiles promptly lunged forward, sticking his hand down the front of Derek's pants to grope at his crotch, making him choke on air in astonishment, and hissed, "Yes, you idiot, _I'm sure_."

Or how when Derek finally, _finally_ eased into Stiles's tight body, biting down on a groan of pure carnal pleasure, Stiles threw his head back into the pillow, exposing a neck just begging for Derek to mark up and muttering shakily, "Oh my- _fuck_, thank you baby Jesus for this glorious blessing. And _ah_\- also—"

And an amused glint entered Derek's eyes at the man's rambling and he thrust his hips forward, _hard_, sheathing himself to the root and bottoming out so quickly that Stiles's voice broke on whatever he was saying next, the words melting into a choked out _whimper_. 

The rest had been a blur of sweaty, writhing bodies, creaking mattress springs, the occasional huff of disbelieving laughter from Derek when Stiles would inevitably say something ridiculous, and uncontrolled cursing on both their parts when everything got to be too much.

Derek tosses the condom in the trash, turning around to see Stiles wiping down his chest with a hand towel from the drawer with all the lube and condoms. Swallowing heavily, he turns back and begins to slowly start searching for his briefs. He knows the process too well. After all, his past sexual encounters have never amounted to much else. Most people just like him for his body, not his company. It’s something he’s come to accept, however unfortunate it might be for the inner part of him that wants to wake up in someone’s arms, that wants to cook breakfast for someone, that wants date nights and anniversaries and showing someone off to his family.

Derek snags a sock that had somehow managed to wind up on a lampshade and casts his gaze around the room to look for the other.

"Hey, you can- you can stay, if you want."

Derek blinks, lips parting in surprise, and his eyes cut to Stiles who grabs his glasses from the nightstand and slips them on. Along with messy sex hair and flushed cheeks, the sight is so endearing it makes Derek’s heart thump unevenly. The other man chews on his lower lip, looking almost…shy, which is unexpected given how unabashedly loud and enthusiastic he’d been in bed just a few minutes ago. “I would…I’d like if you stayed.”

His pause of surprise must have been a little too long because Stiles flushes and waves a hand with forced casualness, “I mean…only if you want! I totally get if you don’t. I know I tend to talk too much, trust me, people have let me know that _plenty_—”

Derek frowns at that.

“—but you seem really different and I kind of like you, like _really_ like you because you actually listen to me, well, it seems like you do and you get my Star Wars references and you laugh at my jokes and you’re totally a nerd after my own heart and you’re like, objectively, the hottest person I’ve ever seen and would you _please_ say something before I wither away from embarrassment.”

“I’d- “ Derek drops everything in his hands and takes a step closer, which brings him to a halt right next to the bed. “I’d like that too.”

Stiles’s face lights up and he reaches a hand up to grasp Derek’s wrist, pulling him down onto the bed sharply. “_Fuck _yeah.”

Derek laughs, kissing the tip of Stiles’s nose as he makes himself comfortable again under the sheets. Stiles winds his limbs around Derek, clinging to him like an octopus. He doesn’t mind though, Derek thinks with a small smile as he hesitantly slides an arm over the other man’s body. He actually kind of likes it. It feels…nice. No one’s ever really _cuddled_ with him before.

Derek is almost nodding off when Stiles nudges his leg and noses at the junction where his jaw and neck meet. He mumbles something so quiet and slurred that Derek almost misses it, had he not been staring at Stiles’s features and trying to catalogue everything to memory.

"Would you like to stay forever?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Title from song: [Can You Feel the Love Tonight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KjgWWjkNbhU) by Elton John


End file.
